


Happy Holidays

by spinner33



Series: CM - Season One [3]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:05:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4922419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blind dates are evil.  So are holiday parties.  </p><p>Hotch invites the BAU team to his house for a holiday party.  Haley sets Reid up on a blind date in hopes of putting a wedge in the relationship developing between Hotch and Reid.  Hotch is not a happy camper when he realizes what his wife is doing and why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

People who do not socialize easily dread holiday parties. Compulsory holiday parties – even more so. As a rule, Reid did everything within his power to avoid going to these events, particularly ones which were held at someone’s private home. Office parties were easy to handle. You hang around a few minutes, have a cup of eggnog, and then vanish under the pretext of an urgent call, or a sudden thought on a case, or some such phantom. Parties at people's homes were different. Reid didn’t want to be invited inside someone’s private life, their house, their family. He wanted to remain aloof and separate, so there was no avenue for wishing for what other people took for granted -- a home, a family, an emotional closeness with someone special. Reid avoided holiday parties at private homes because it hurt too much to be left wanting for what he could never have.

“You’re coming tonight, aren’t you?” Hotch said suddenly. They were riding the elevator together, and the silver metal doors reflected their faces like a long mirror. Reid unconsciously started wringing his hands, and Hotch’s eyes fell immediately on those long fingers twisting around one another. Aaron didn't have to be a seasoned profiler to know the thoughts that were running through the young doctor's head. Reid’s eyes darted up and down, around, searching for an escape. He could feel his cheeks turning pink as he warmed up inside and out.

"I...um....have been meaning to....um...politely decline. Early day tomorrow."

“Oh no! You can't! Haley is so excited to have everyone over,” Hotch protested. “She’s been working on the house all week. Planning the catering for the last month. She’s finally got everything ready. I know you aren’t the party type, and that you’d rather go home and hide, and watch old movies on tv. Hell, if it were up to me,  
I’d be right there on the couch next to you. I dread these things too. But I really want you there. I promise, I will make this as painless and fun as possible. The way I see it, if I have to be there, you have to be there too.”

Reid hugged his satchel tight to himself, thinking about the last holiday party he had attended. It had been years ago when he was working on his mathematics doctorate. He had spent the evening in the company of forty people, but didn’t talk to a single one of them beyond a quick hello at the door to the host. His colleague had seemed surprised that Reid was there. It occurred to Spencer in that instant that the invitation had been offered only with the assumption that he would never accept. Reid had spent two hours admiring the house plants and holiday decorations before creeping quietly out the back door. He had walked home in the cold without his coat because he had been too shy to bother the host to retrieve his jacket, or to ask anyone for a ride. Then he had proceeded to get so completely drunk on homemade eggnog that he had had a headache that lasted for two days.

Hotch reached over and tugged on Reid’s tie. Spencer froze in place, alarmed by the closeness and the unexpected touch.

“Come here. Reeeeeid, hold still,” Hotch ordered as Spencer squirmed backwards against the wall of the elevator. Aaron undid the knot, flipped up Reid’s collar, and smoothed the edges of his collar and his tie. He pulled the ends of the tie out straight, and measured them against each other, and then wrapped one end over the other.

“Hotch…I…” Reid stammered. Aaron looked up from his task and narrowed his eyes playfully.

“You have an early flight to Las Vegas?” 

Reid nodded quickly.

“Don’t worry, Cinderella,” Aaron soothed. “I’ll have you back home early, so you can get a good night’s rest, and make your flight in the morning."

That voice. That damned voice. Low, deep, melodic, persuasive, pervasive. It was embarrassing, the way that voice slid down into Spencer's ear and made him tremble. Worse, the way it made him jump to obey. That voice owned him. Hotch owned him.

It had been months since the case in Columbus, Ohio, the unsub who had been killing phone-sex operators. Gideon had ordered Reid to man one of the phone lines in hopes of identifying the killer when he called in, using his words and speech patterns to match him to the notes and messages that had been left for the authorities at each crime scene. During that case, Reid had attracted the attention of a caller whom he was now convinced had been his unit chief incognito. For weeks, Reid had wondered if he was imagining what his brain was telling him. He had analyzed Hotch's actions and reactions, his speech patterns, his vocabulary, his moods -- anything that would lend a clue. There was no denying what Reid believed -- that Hotch had been the mysterious caller who had used his not-  
well-disguised voice to learn too many of Reid's private desires. Reid had waited, horrified that Hotch would use these secrets against him, let slip the things that he had learned, and yet, none of that had happened. Spencer simply didn't know what to think. Why had Hotch done what he had done, if not to use the private information against him?

“Hotch.. I…” Reid tried again. Hotch was pulling the top end of the tie through the knot, tightening the noose, so to speak.

“You have to pack, and you need to wrap presents for your mom?” Hotch asked.

Reid nodded again.

“You are not chickening out on me,” Aaron growled. “Spencer Reid, you have to come to this party tonight. I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but Haley has invited this friend of a friend that she wants me to introduce to you. She made me promise I would bring you, because she’s sure you and this friend will hit it off really well. From what I’ve heard, it sounds like you would be perfect for one another.”

The horror Reid felt must have shown on his face. Hotch had allowed Haley to set Reid up on a blind date? No. This was just cruel. It was above and beyond cruel. People only set Reid up on blind dates for two reasons – they saw him as an object of pity, or they wanted to make him an object of amusement. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know who Haley Hotchner thought would be the perfect mate for him, and he was suddenly ill with the idea that Hotch was playing along with this game. Never had Reid been on a blind date that turned out well. Usually there was a hidden punch-line involved, something Reid never figured out until it was too late. The joke was always on him. He couldn’t bear to believe that Hotch was orchestrating this kind of cruelty on him.

“Reid, you should see your face. Don't worry. It won’t be as bad as all that. I’ve met Dr. Oshira before. She’s really very nice, and extremely intelligent, so I know you'll have a lot to talk about with each other. I want you to meet her. You are going to do this for me, Spencer Reid, because if you bail on me, when Haley gets mad and throws me out of the house, I’m going to haunt your doorstep, and sleep on your couch, and eat every last salty-sweet peanut bar in the vending machines before you can get to them.”

Hotch admired Reid’s straightened tie with a satisfied smile, but his eyes lifted and he took in Reid’s colorless face.

“What’s wrong?” Hotch worried.

Spencer didn’t remember passing out. The next thing he knew, he was waking up on the floor of the elevator. He was distantly aware that there was an alarm going off in the background. Had Hotch hit the emergency button? Morgan was standing over Reid, staring down in concern.

"What happened?" Morgan worried.

Hotch was gently patting Reid's cheeks to rouse him. Aaron could not have looked more guilty and afraid. Gideon was standing outside the open elevator, looking perturbed, but mostly amused.

“You told him about Dr. Oshira, didn’t you?” Gideon asked Hotch.

“Yes,” Hotch admitted shamefully.

“I warned you not to tell him,” Jason murmured, his face full of discomfort. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t bolt for the airport tonight.”


	2. Chapter 2

As it turned out, Dr. Anna Oshira was very lovely, nice, and intelligent, to be sure, all the things that Hotch had said she would be. But there was no way to hide the terrible distress on her face when Hotch made the polite introductions between her and Spencer. Haley was lurking to one side, eyes bright and anxious, glinting in a strange way that unsettled Reid. Oshira kept shooting searching looks at Haley, ones which clearly read 'How could you do this to me? I thought we were friends.' Reid understood that Oshira had not been forewarned. He felt sorry for her, ashamed that this was causing her distress too.

If Reid and Oshira had met in the coffee shop, or at the train station, or in the grocery store, and discovered that they had so much in common – demanding jobs, genius-level intelligence, fascinations with science-fiction, crippling inability to socialize well among their peers – they might have been great friends. But not here, not now, not under these circumstances. Reid could see in Oshira's face that she too had had several bad experiences where well-meaning (and not-so-well-meaning) friends had set her up on unsuccessful blind dates which had gone wrong.

Oshira was a mirror of Reid’s own intern tumult of feelings – she was perplexed and embarrassed by what Haley had done. Moreover, she looked hurt. It would have been impossible to miss the discomfort she was giving off. Reid understood immediately, and kept away from her during the ‘mingle hour’ before dinner. The last thing in the world Reid wanted to upset someone with his mere presence.

Reid was bashful and clumsy on good days. But tonight, he was Reid Squared. He fumbled around – dropped an angel off the mantel, tripped into the doorframe to avoid standing under the mistletoe next to JJ, and drank a large goblet of eggnog while admiring the family pictures along the hallway that led to the downstairs bathroom. If the bathroom window had been large enough, and would have opened wide enough, he would have climbed up onto the toilet and already slipped out and disappeared into the night.

Reid was painfully aware that his fumbling actions were relaying to his co-workers, and everyone else at the party, exactly how socially- inept he was. The whispers and the looks were taking Reid back to every bad school or college party event he had ever been forced to endure. Haley's co-workers were bad enough. It did not take a super profiler to realize that everyone but Oshira had discussed this planned introduction between Spencer and Anna, and had been looking forward to seeing the results, whether positive or negative. The BAU team also seemed excited to watch this drama play out.

Morgan kept exchanging knowing glances and whispers with JJ and Elle, smiling as he watched Reid and Oshira avoid each other while the rest of the party-goers mingled around the living room and dining room. Gideon tried twice to strike up a conversation with Reid and Oshira near to each other, but Oshira would immediately flee again, and Spencer would quickly fall silent once more. It was clear this had been a bad idea, and Jason knew better than to press the issue.  
Others were speculating with each other what it meant that anytime Reid and Oshira managed to be near each other that they both immediately fled in the other direction. Was it attraction between two shy people, or aversion between two repulsed people? Opinions varied.

Haley had of course placed Reid and Oshira together for the formal dinner. Halfway through the appetizer, Anna put one hand gently on Reid’s arm, and whispered a simple sentence in Japanese to him. Reid lifted his eyes from his plate, and turned to slowly nod at her.

Hotch watched with hope and interest, and not a little dread, as Anna and Reid started to whisper back and forth in Japanese. He wondered what Oshira had said to break the ice. She retrieved a small picture from her pocket, showed it to him, and put it away again. He gasped, dropped his butter knife on the floor while trying to rearrange his napkin in his lap. When he bent down to retrieve the knife, he smacked his head on the table and knocked JJ’s glass into her lap. She stifled a growl of annoyance as she glared hard across the table at him. Reid shrank down in his chair and wouldn’t meet JJ’s angry eyes as she dabbed the moisture out of her lap.

What was the picture that Oshira had shown to Reid? Anna tentatively said one word, repeated it slowly. A light had dawned on Reid's face. Hotch was analyzing their conversation with such intensity that Haley poked him in the leg beneath the table. Reid bowed his head to Oshira, and apologized softly and repeatedly. Oshira was even more apologetic than Reid had been. Reid and Oshira relaxed visibly after the brief exchange. She sighed with relief, and Reid offered another head bow and apology. They exchanged a handful more words in Japanese before she turned to talk to the person on her other side, and Reid fell back into silence. It had been going well for a few moments there, and Hotch had hoped they had gotten over their discomfort with one another. But it appeared that the matter had been settled. Aaron wasn’t sure what he felt worse about – watching them chat politely with each other, or watching them ignoring each other once more.

Oshira’s conversation with the person on her other side grew more animated. It was someone from Haley’s real estate office but Hotch couldn’t remember who, or what position they held. It didn't matter. In comparison to Oshira’s dialogue with the other person, Reid quietly fingered the edge of his plate, lowered his eyes, and physically folded his shoulders closer around himself. Hotch could almost hear the words in Reid’s head about the intricate pattern of holly leaves and berries, the significance of holly to the Pagan winter solstice, the symbolic struggle between the Oak King of Summer and the Holly King of Winter, and so on. Hotch wished he was closer to Reid so he could speak with him. He was more than willing to listen to Reid ramble if it would take that lost puppy look off Spencer’s face. But Hotch was about as far away from Reid as he could be around this table. It would be impossible to talk with him. Somehow Hotch knew that this seating arrangement was not a coincidence.

Aaron’s heart ached as he watched Reid put his napkin beside his plate and quietly excuse himself. No one else noticed him leave at first. Reid tiptoed around the table and dodged chairs. Aaron followed Reid’s soundless escape, at least until Reid went past Gideon’s chair. Gideon wasn’t looking at Reid – he was staring hard at Hotch, and he was not happy. Aaron hoped Jason would stop Reid and make him return to his seat. But not only did Jason let Reid slip away, he also put a hand on Morgan’s arm to make him remain seated and not follow Reid. Morgan stared at Hotch and waited, unhappy.

Elle was seated next to Garcia, two people away from Morgan and Gideon. Penelope and Elle whispered to each other. All the warmth and merriment left Elle’s face as she watched Reid scamper out of the room, tail between his legs, figuratively speaking. Garcia pulled out her phone and tabbed buttons. There was a distant ding from the coat closet – Reid’s phone must have been in his coat pocket. Garcia sighed sadly and put her phone away. JJ put down her fork and set her napkin beside her plate, but Gideon shot her a look, so she froze.

Aaron was well aware that his entire team was waiting for him to do something to fix the situation. He had allowed this, it was his fault, so it was his responsibility to fix it. Haley was also watching Hotch. Aaron made as if to follow Reid. Haley landed a hand on Aaron’s leg and held tight, digging in with all her nails as hard as she  
could. There was no mistaking her message: Stay in your seat.

“Hon, your food will get cold,” she murmured dangerously as she let go of his leg and picked up her steak knife. This was about so much more than dinner though. Hotch could feel it.

“I should….”

“He doesn’t need your help to flush, hon,” Haley tittered softly, attempting to make merry and light. A few of her co-workers chuckled discretely. One of them exchanged an amused glance with Haley, and the way Haley smiled back made Hotch furiously angry deep down inside. Had this been a set-up? Hotch's stomach curdled with anger at the thought. Had Aaron unknowingly played along with a cruel prank on Reid? His blood ran hot in his veins. Hotch got up, set his napkin down, and hurried around the table. Hotch could feel the glare that Haley was sending his direction as he went to find out where Reid had gone. He paused at  
the dining room arch and sent her back a look that made her flinch. The smile fell off the face of the co-worker who was whispering to her from her other side.

Dessert was being served before Hotch managed to coax Reid out of the hallway bathroom. Aaron came back to the table long enough to nab two saucers of bread pudding, and exchange another foreboding glance with Haley and the co-worker. Hotch was sure now that that other person, was it Leslie or Sandy or Wendy?, she had been the one who put this idea into Haley's head. But for what purpose? Whatever their reason, he made his displeasure very obvious, ignoring Haley's attempt at drawing him back into his seat and into conversation. Hotch tucked the two saucers in one hand, then dragged Reid by an elbow towards the study. It wasn’t too long before the entire team was excusing themselves from the table, disappearing to the study one at a time.


	3. Chapter 3

“I should help Reid upstairs to his apartment,” Hotch said.

Haley glared at Aaron from the passenger seat. It was the same stare she had been wearing since the BAU had secluded themselves in the study and began talking shop, something she had strictly forbidden at the start of the evening. Haley was not happy with Aaron, and she was not happy with his co-workers, and she was really not happy with Dr. Spencer Reid.

“He’ll be fine,” she murmured.

“His apartment is three flights up, and he’s unsteady on his feet. I'm going to go help,” Hotch replied. He unbuckled his seatbelt, and Haley put a hand on his arm.

“Aaron, he is an adult.”

“One I’m responsible for. How would it look if he tumbled down three flights of stairs and spilled that big brain everywhere? I will be right back,” Hotch replied tersely.

Aaron was out of the car before Haley could get another word in. She sat sulking as she watched Hotch rush across the street, and approach the entrance to Reid’s apartment building.

Spencer was fumbling with the front door keys, keeping himself upright by will power alone. He never drank like this at parties. He knew better -- knew how he could be when he had had too much to drink. He turned into his mother, let hurtful and cruel words slip from his mouth like poison darts. Sober, Reid would internalize pain and take it in on himself. Drunk, Reid would externalize, seek to injure and shock those around him to alleviate the pain inside. 

Tonight had been upsetting on so many levels. The awkward embarrassment was etched into his brain. He relived every agonizing moment over and over in his head. Hotch was partially to blame though. After they retreated to the study, every time Reid emptied his glass, Hotch was there filling it for him again, giving him a cheerful smile, a gentle pat on the arm. They had started to talk shop because it was the only topic that would draw Reid back out of his shell. Reid felt ashamed that he couldn’t manage to find the right key, even more ashamed that he had not maintained control of himself or his façade this evening. He was never going to another holiday party – ever. And he would leave the BAU if Hotch ever lured him into another ambush like this!

Hotch appeared out of the darkness and patted Reid on the shoulder. Spencer shrieked out in surprise. Hotch did not have to look back at the car to know that Haley was over there rolling her eyes.

“Is the door stuck? Let me help,” Hotch murmured, taking Reid’s keys and sorting through them. He tried two before finding the right one. Spencer leaned against the wall and looked at anything but Hotch, and anything but Haley frowning at them from the car. He was breathing wraiths of white into the cold night. Hotch pushed open the entrance door, and pulled Reid inside the building.

“No elevator?” Hotch asked, darting his eyes around the old building with its immaculate woodworking and early century wainscotings in the foyer. The pictures were prints of early Washington DC. The carpeting wasn't expensive, but it was well-maintained. Still, for all the cleanliness, there was a sadness in the air. Spencer motioned to the OUT OF ORDER sign on the cage door of the elevator, and Hotch frowned.

"I offered to look at it, but the super said he'd have someone in soon to fix it," Spencer replied. "If it needs parts, they're going to have to be retro-manufactured, because the company that built the elevator has been out of business since the 60's. It's a lovely, old elevator though - open air, so you don't get claustrophobic inside a closed box. Smooth running, when it works. I think it has to do with the wiring that runs to the elevator more than the functions of the mechanisms themselves."

Hotch pulled Reid towards the staircase, and started up the stairs at a run. Reid tottered up the first stair, valiantly made it to the second stair, but stopped where he was. Hotch paused on the first landing and looked back. He filled with sympathy and patience.

“Hotch,” Reid stammered, hand on the railing, eyes on the floor. “You should go. Haley is waiting.”

“She can contain herself for five minutes,” Hotch scowled, bouncing back down the steps. “May I?” he asked, tentatively putting an arm out.

“May you what?” Spencer asked fearfully, taking a step back from him. Hotch scooped Reid up in his arms, whirled around, and began to climb the steps. Outside, Haley started honking. Considering the fact that the front door had a huge glass window, and the lights in the foyer were on bright, there was no doubt she had seen her husband pick Reid up.

Reid blinked at Hotch, unsurely resting his head on Aaron. One hand clung behind Aaron’s back to his far shoulder, and the other laced around his green tie. Spencer swallowed loudly and closed his eyes.

"You shouldn't be doing this," Reid slurred.

"Doing what? Am I shaking you too much?" Aaron asked. 

“You smell nice,” Reid said softly. Hotch snickered.

“That must be the Chablis talking,” Aaron smiled. 

“It was quite a nice vintage of Blanchot,” Reid said.

“Yes, a Grand Cru Blanchot. That case has been sitting around waiting for the right occasion,” Aaron rambled as he climbed. “A gift from my mother. Haley won’t touch it – says it goes straight to her head. What about you?”

“I drank too much. I'm sorry if I said or did anything untoward,” he stammered. Hotch gave a tender smile.

“Do you think you and Anna might…you know?...be seeing each other again?” Aaron asked hopefully even though he already knew the answer.

They crossed the second landing before Reid figured out what to say. He lifted his head. He cleared his throat.

“No. I’m not her type,” Spencer managed finally.

“Oh.” Hotch did his best to sound disappointed. “Is she into guys like Morgan? Beefy? Muscle-bound?”

“No,” Reid replied. “Morgan isn’t her type either,” Reid said, giving Hotch an intense stare. They reached the third landing, and Hotch set Reid’s feet tenderly on the ground. Spencer wandered one way, and then turned around, brushed past Hotch, and went the other way, down a narrow, paneled corridor which led to an apartment door.

“What exactly is she looking for in a man?” Hotch asked. Reid stared at him blandly, unsure what to say. It took Hotch a few moments to realize what Reid was saying without saying. “Oh!” Aaron exclaimed. He fumbled for the door key. Reid leaned against the wall beside the door.

“I’m sorry,” Reid whispered.

"What was on the picture she showed you?" Hotch asked.

"It was a picture of her girlfriend," Reid answered. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

“What are you sorry for?” Aaron sighed. “I swear to God, I didn’t know, Reid. I would not have gone through with this blind date nonsense if I had had any idea. Does Haley know Anna is gay? I’m going to give her such a piece of my mind if she did this on purpose-- her and Leslie, or Sandy, or whatever -eee she is. I've never liked her-- always nosing into other people's business."

“I don't believe Anna has told anyone,” Reid replied softly.

“I’m so sorry I got you into this,” Hotch lamented. 

“I’m sorry I was such an idiot tonight,” Reid babbled. 

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” Reid moaned softly. Self-pity flowed around him like a miserable, tattered gray cloak, pooling on the ground and dragging him down.

“Reid, so what if you aren’t Dr. Oshira’s type? That doesn't matter. Somewhere out there is someone who loves you exactly as you are – every quirk, every weirdness, every bit of you that makes you who you are,” Hotch soothed. Reid nodded.

“Yes, my mother,” he agreed grimly.

“Other than your mother,” Hotch amended.

“Promise me something.” 

“What?”

“Don't let your wife set me up on any more blind dates, not even under threat of pain or dismemberment.”

“Dismemberment?” Hotch paled. “Well, I don't know. That’s pretty serious.”

Hotch got the apartment door open, and stood there feeling awkward. He knew Reid wanted to run. Spencer wanted to retreat into the shadows and stay there till morning.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” Aaron offered feebly.

Reid shrugged and bit his mouth closed, turning away. Hotch put a hand on Reid's shoulder, then slid both arms around him, hugging him sideways. Reid quivered and shrank back from the touch. Hotch pulled his arms away, a lump in his throat. Reid rushed into the interior of his apartment. He was suddenly nothing more than a downcast pair of eyes in the shadows, and a thin pale hand clinging to the wooden door.

“Have fun in Las Vegas. Say hello to your mom,” Aaron called out.

“Good night,” Reid said with a shaking voice as he closed and locked the door.

As Aaron stood in the narrow hallway, he thought he could hear Reid sliding down to the floor against the wall of bookcases which had been to the left of the doorway. Hotch waited for a moment or two, almost sure he could hear the forlorn sounds of someone crying as quietly as possible, one hand over their mouth, delaying taking a deep breath for fear of making too much noise and being found out.

Hotch’s heart crumbled. Feeling like a complete shit, he dragged himself slowly down to the foyer, fighting the urge to run back up and knock on Reid’s door, make sure he was all right. When Hotch reached the entrance of the building and stepped out onto the sidewalk, he was surprised to find that Haley was now in the driver’s seat, and she was parked on the near side of the street.

“One more minute, and I was leaving,” she threatened. Hotch stood at the open passenger door and stared back up at Reid’s apartment.

"Well, no one asked you to come along in the first place," Hotch shot back. No lights had come on upstairs yet. He wondered if Reid had made it any further than the front door.

“Aaron, get in,” Haley commanded. Hotch sighed and got into the car.


	4. Chapter 4

Haley hadn’t driven two blocks before she turned to Aaron and blurted angry words.

“Anna didn’t like Reid. I could tell by her face.”

“No. Reid is not Oshira's type,” Aaron answered truthfully.

“I have another friend I think might be more his speed. She’s a librarian.”

“Haley, no. Don’t ever do this again,” Hotch cut her off as gently as he could.

“Reid needs someone else in his life, someone outside of work.” 

“Reid isn’t good with relationships. Why don’t you cut him a break?” 

“Is he gay?” Haley asked. "Sandy said he acts very gay."

“I don’t discuss my team’s sexual habits with them,” Hotch answered crisply. Not technically true, but he wasn't telling Haley about the case in Columbus. He knew better than to give her ammunition when she was clearly spoiling for a fight.

“I'd call that an evasive answer, counselor,” Haley mocked. “What’s the matter with Reid? Why does he have to be so weird? No wonder Anna doesn’t want to date him.”

Hotch stared at the stranger who was his wife. Maybe she had had too many drinks tonight too. He hadn’t kept track. But she wasn’t usually this angry or this blunt.

“Why does it have to be Reid’s fault that he and your friend’s friend didn’t hit it off?” Hotch demanded. "I thought you liked Reid. Why would you do something like this to him?"

“Why are you always defending him?” Haley demanded back. 

“He’s not weird. He’s different.”

“Oh, he’s different, all right,” Haley laughed darkly. “Admit it, Aaron. He’s not normal.”

“Has it occurred to you that Reid was attracted to Anna, but she wasn’t attracted to him?” Hotch muttered.

"Has he ever talked about sex with you? With any of you?" 

"No," Hotch lied.

"What's he got to hide?" she demanded.

"Just because Reid doesn't talk about his sex life with us, that doesn't mean he has anything to hide. Maybe it simply means he prefers to keep his private life private."

“You’ve never asked?”

“No,” Aaron lied. “It’s none of my business."

"If you had to speculate?" Haley pressed.

"If Reid has sexual problems, he hasn't discussed them with any of us, and he shouldn't be expected to do so. If he has problems, they could be emotional, chemical, or physical. I don't know. Maybe Reid had a very bad experience when he was younger, and he’s never gotten over it. Maybe he was emotionally-scarred by his parents’ divorce, and he’s afraid of the commitment of marriage. Maybe the women Reid is attracted to are not attracted to him, like Anna isn’t attracted to him.”

“If he would comb his hair and wear a better suit….” Haley offered.

“Reid has been made fun of so often, by so many people, for so many years, that I wouldn't be surprised if he believes he’ll never be good enough for anyone. So he doesn’t try, because he doesn’t want to leave himself open to being hurt. There could be a thousand reasons why Reid is single. Why are you being such a bitch about this? How does it even concern you? Why don't you tell Sandy to mind her own goddamn business?”

“Is he a pedophile?”

“Why in God’s name would you think something like that?” Aaron gasped, wondering where this was coming from.

“If he’s not into sex with adults, then he’s into sex with children. Do I need to keep Jack away from him?”

“Just because Reid isn’t fucking every woman who blows in his ear, and bragging about it to anyone who will listen, that doesn’t make him gay, or a pedophile.”

“You said yourself he might have had a bad experience when he was younger. Do you think he was raped, and now he’s gay, and he’s attracted to children?” Haley fretted.

“I never said anything of the sort!” Hotch exclaimed. “For your information, being raped doesn’t make anyone gay. Do you want to know what makes you a gay? The desire to sleep with members of the same sex. That's it. Nothing else. Being raped makes you a rape statistic. It does not make you gay.”

"Don't lecture me on sexuality, Aaron. I'm not one of your cadets," Haley growled hotly.

"Then don't make offensive remarks like that," Hotch growled back. 

“Has he ever even had sex?” Haley asked.

“I have no idea,” Aaron laughed uncomfortably, his mind going back to those phone conversations with Reid again.

“That’s not normal, Aaron, not at his age.”

“Why in the world are you going on about this?” Hotch asked. He hoped to hell Haley couldn’t see him turning red.

“Why haven’t you asked about stuff like this? It’s important.” 

“Haley, Spencer Reid's sexual habits are none of your business.” 

“Is he bisexual like you?" she asked.

"I don't know," Hotch stressed each word angrily.

"I think Reid is gay, and that he and Gideon might have a thing going on,” Haley blurted. “Morgan said they play chess at the office late after work all the time. I asked him why Gideon brought Reid to the BAU, and he said because Gideon likes the kid.”

“Gideon is Reid’s mentor. That’s why he brought Reid into the fold with us. He couldn’t bear to let anyone else have a cadet with so much potential. They spend time together because Gideon is his teacher.”

“So you think there’s something going on between Gideon and Reid? It's a teacher/student sexual relationship?”

“No. Gideon is straight, and he’s old enough to be Reid’s father. He actually has an estranged son Reid’s age. Gideon is not sexually attracted to Reid. If anything, Gideon uses Reid as a substitute son, a focus for his fatherly impulses. Reid plays along because he needs a father figure as much as Gideon needs a child figure.”

“Then Reid is the problem?” Haley said, almost hopefully, as she paused as a red light. "Does he have a crush on Gideon?"

“Why do you care who Reid is sexually attracted to? Why does his sex life matter to you?" Hotch asked, though he was getting a sinking feeling about the direction of this entire conversation. The fact that Haley was this obsessed with the topic meant she must have been discussing the situation with Sandy, her co-worker confidante, and that was why Sandy had come up with the idea of setting up Oshira and Reid.

“Because it does. You want to know what I think?” Haley snipped. “Reid is gay and he can’t deal with it, so he’s in denial. That's why he never talks about sex with any of you.”

“You base this assumption on what? The two or three hours of time you've spent with him over the last four years since he joined my team?”

“He’s in early twenties, he’s single, and he’s not in a relationship. He's probably never been in a relationship. And he’s weird. Really weird. Not just regular weird. That boy is downright odd.”

“At the risk of repeating the obvious, like I said, there could be a million reasons why Reid is single.”

“Yeah, because no one in their right mind will have him, that’s why.”

Hotch looked out the passenger window and let the silence linger too long. Haley couldn’t stay quiet. She had to keep talking.

“Aaron, I don’t like the way he calls you all the time. I don’t like the way he follows you like a puppy. Why does he follow you around?”

“Because I’m nice to him."

"Stop being nice to him," Haley snipped. Hotch did his best to ignore her words and her tone, but she kept on talking. "Why does it have to be your job to look after him?"

"Haley, I am his boss. He was here tonight only because I begged him to come, said you would be disappointed if he backed out. He only came because I asked him to be here. I won't ever do that again."

"Good," she snipped.

"His job is all he has in his life. He doesn't have anyone else to turn to. He has acquaintances, but no close friends. His job is all he has. When it comes to interacting with co-workers, or local law enforcement, or average people on the street, I see how they distance themselves from him. They put him on the outside as quickly as possible, and make sure he knows his place. You don't think Reid hasn't noticed this too? Of course he has. That's why he doesn't go out of his way to interact with people. I'm sure that's why he's single.”

“See, you’re defending him again,” Haley sniffed. "I should have known Anna wouldn't like him."

“I’ll have you know, they didn't hit it off because Oshira has a girlfriend. She's gay, Haley, and that is in no way Reid's fault."

"I don't believe you!" Haley shouted.

"Why don’t you get off the kid’s back?” Hotch blurted. He hated himself for revealing Oshira’s secret, but he was more interested in protecting Reid than protecting Oshira.

“Aaron Hotchner! You stop yelling at me, right now! There’s no way Anna Oshira is gay! How dare you make something like that up?! She’s too pretty! She’s too feminine! She's not gay! I'd know!” Haley defended. Aaron turned a hard glare on Haley again.

“Really? That’s your expert opinion?"

"If that's what she told Reid, she probably said it to discourage him, to make him go away."

"So you can't believe Anna Oshira is gay, essentially because she's too feminine, but you think Reid MUST be gay because he’s weird and quiet, and reticent to discuss his sexual habits with the world?” Hotch growled.

“I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth. Don't make me out to be a homophobe, because you know I'm not. Your bisexuality has never bothered me. I don't care if Reid is gay! I don’t give a fuck who he sleeps with, as long as he stops calling you all the time."

Haley stared out the windshield, furious. Hotch blinked at her for a second, and then glared out the passenger window. They were silent the rest of the way home.


	5. Chapter 5

Haley frowned all through Christmas Eve Day.

She frowned all through Christmas Day too. If she was waiting for an apology from Aaron, she was going to be waiting an awfully long time.

By the 26th, she was beginning to thaw, mostly because Jack was so excited about the holidays. Jack made her smile and laugh. But every time Haley looked at Aaron, her frown returned. Maybe that was because Hotch was frowning right back at her. They slept in the same bed, but far enough apart that separate blankets were necessary.

It was with anxious relief that Hotch picked up the ringing phone on the morning of December 27th. 

“Hello?” Aaron murmured.

“Hotch? I'm so sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Reid!” Aaron beamed, glancing at the clock. Haley was already up. She stepped backwards out of the bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth, and yes, she was frowning at Aaron again. “No. You didn’t wake me,” Hotch lied, dodging the poisonous glance Haley was shooting at him.

“I am so sorry to bother you,” Spencer said. 

“It’s no bother. What’s wrong?” Hotch asked.

“I wouldn’t have called, but I lost my things at the airport, and I don't have my phone, and I’m kinda stranded. I couldn’t find Gideon. He must be at the cabin, and he doesn’t take his phone when he goes there.”

“Wait. Stop. What? You’re stranded? Where are you? Are you okay?” Hotch was out of bed, all business, holding the phone with his shoulder and pulling on his pants.

“Where am I?” Reid asked. Was he talking to someone in the background? “Thermopolis, Wyoming,” he reported to Hotch.

“Wyoming? Why are you in Wyoming? What happened to Las Vegas?” Hotch asked, his voice getting louder and stronger as he opened the closet and grabbed his go-bag.

Reid sniffed softly, and through a shaking voice, he replied, "It’s a very long story."

“I’m coming to get you.”

"Thanks,” Reid said, sounding very relieved. It must have been serious, because he didn't put up any fuss whatsoever.

“Where are you staying?”

“I'm at the Super 8. When I tried to call Gideon, I couldn’t reach him, and…thanks, Hotch, I really appreciate this.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t leave that hotel. Don't go anywhere,” Hotch ordered. “I’ll call you right back as soon as I’m in the air.”

Hotch stepped towards the bathroom, but Haley emerged. She had frosted over with disdain and irritation.

“I'll be back as quickly as possible,” Hotch said.

“Take your time,” Haley replied coolly. Hotch paused on one foot, but picked up his bag again and jogged for the door.


	6. Chapter 6

By pulling a few strings, Hotch was able to wrangle a six-hour military flight between DC and Cheyenne, Wyoming. He cleaned up and changed in the bathroom while waiting for the flight, and emerged more the part of a federal agent than a lazy schlep who had gotten out of bed and driven to the airfield without combing his hair or brushing his teeth.

Aaron drank three cups of coffee on board, keeping himself to himself while listening to several military service members discussing how fantastic it was to be home and see their families over the holidays. The irony of the situation did not escape Aaron. He imagined he was going to be in for a very chilly reception when he did get back home.

Because of Hotch’s quiet demeanor and his grave reserve, the others on the flight assumed he must have been a senior officer of an undisclosed high rank. Two of the kids actually saluted Hotch on their way off the plane in Cheyenne. Hotch nodded respectfully to them and waited until they were all clear before getting up and getting off the plane.

Hotch stepped to the exit stairs, and was greeted at the bottom by a pair of familiar faces – Jason Gideon and General Scott. He knew Gideon and Scott were old friends, that they had worked together in the past. He also knew that Gideon had asked General Scott to arrange a security detail to protect Reid when he travelled, in order to insure that the young genius and all that he knew, all that he could learn, did not fall into the wrong hands. There were certain interests, both foreign and domestic, who in the past had attempted to either lure or outright abduct Dr. Reid, and so Gideon's desire to protect Reid wasn't born of paranoia so much as demonstrated necessity. Obviously this was not a fool-proof plan however.

“What’s the situation?” Gideon called out. Hotch shouldered his go- bag and gave them both a virulent case of stink-eye as he made his way to the ground. His silence and his irritation made Gideon and Scott nervous.

“Reid slipped our surveillance in Cincinnati,” the general murmured, and he looked the right combination of mortified and defensive for Hotch to know that he was telling the truth. “I tracked down Gideon, and Gideon said that Reid was sure to contact you if something was wrong. We contacted your home. Your wife said you had already left. We tracked down which flight you were on, and here you are. Don’t worry, Agent Hotchner. I'm sure there's no reason to panic. Dr. Reid does this to me all the time. It's a game that we play. I can’t tell you what it’s like, being in charge of security for someone like Dr. Reid.”

Aaron took a deep breath and stared around the tarmac.

“I don’t know what the situation is. Reid called me this morning, and said he was stranded in Thermopolis, Wyoming without his luggage or his cell phone. He's staying at a hotel. He tried to reach Gideon first, but thought you must be at the cabin without your phone," Hotch said.

“I was,” Jason admitted.

“Being unable to reach you, Reid called me.”

"Haley sounded pissed on the phone," Gideon observed. Hotch gave him another dirty look.

“Thermopolis isn’t far from here,” the general put in. He motioned to his right, and a young aide came running over, taking Hotch’s bag from him.

“A couple hours?” Gideon guessed, giving Hotch an opening to speak, which Aaron wasn’t in the mood to take.

General Scott spoke with his aide. The young man was a professional soldier, by his athletic build and professional demeanor, Aaron surmised.

“Wells, put Agent Hotchner’s bag in the trunk with Dr. Reid’s things. We’re going to hop a puddle jumper to Thermopolis – they’ve got a municipal airport north of town. You and Haines meet us there as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir,” the aide barked.

“Maybe you should find a vehicle more appropriate to the territory and the terrain?”

“Yes, sir,” the aide barked, giving half a grin.

"Tell the base commander that we will all be back to Cheyenne by late tonight."

"Yes, sir."


	7. Chapter 7

Two hours later, Hotch was pulling into the parking lot at the Super 8 in Thermopolis. It was nice from the outside – clean and tidy.

Gideon was silent in the passenger seat – the puddle-jumper flight had not agreed with him. He groaned as they came to a stop, and squinted at the sunset behind them before looking at the hotel again.

Jason muttered to himself, "Reid had better have a damned good explanation for all of this.”

General Scott had met up with his aides again at the municipal airport in Thermopolis. They were all riding in a military jeep which came bouncing and bopping into the parking lot right behind Hotch’s SUV, and parked alongside it. The general got out, but the aides stayed in the vehicle.

Hotch climbed out of his SUV, and strode towards the glass doors, walking past a sheriff’s car and a park ranger’s vehicle as well. His heart beat a little faster when he spotted a familiar figure near the front desk. Reid was standing before a wall display of travel brochures, stacking and straightening them. He didn't look any worse for wear -- same hair, rumpled clothes, big shoes, his satchel close by his feet.

Behind the desk was a rough-looking woman with dark black hair and a jagged frown. Somewhere between forty and forty-five, she had a severe face, multiple tattoos, biceps as big as Morgan had, and a pair of dark blue eyes that could cut straight through bullshit. Hotch knew with one glance that there wasn’t a soul within fifty miles who was going to come in here and give her any kind of trouble. She spotted Hotch even before he pulled on the door handle and made a series of bells chime throughout the lobby.

Reid glanced up at the melodious sound, and when he spotted Hotch, he gave a timid smile that lit up the universe before his eyes dropped shyly to the ground again. The hotel clerk got up and put her hand under the counter, whispering to Reid. Spencer nodded to her, and she pulled her hand back out from under the counter, closing a door down below, Hotch thought.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Reid said as Hotch walked up to the counter and stood close enough to talk without being overheard by everyone else who was in the lobby. Two park rangers and a police officer were sitting on the couch and chairs in front of the tv, but they weren’t interested in the movie that was on. They were gawking at Hotch, and at the general and Gideon as the two men entered. The bells chimed again.

“Likewise. Were you trying to get away from it all?” Hotch asked softly, without recrimination in his voice. He was certain Reid was about to get plenty of that from Gideon, and maybe from the general too.

“Not exactly,” Reid replied. “This was more of an unplanned misadventure than a diverting jaunt, if you know what I mean.”

“So these are your guys, right?” the hotel clerk asked Reid. “Not from that other bunch?”

“Yes, ma’am, they’re friendlies,” Reid replied. “SSA Aaron Hotchner, Mrs. Betty Raker.”

“What the hell took you so long, Hotchner?” Betty shot at Aaron. “He’s been here since early this morning. There’s been some pretty unsavory bastards patrolling around town since mid-afternoon. Couldn’t you put down the eggnog and tear yourself away quicker?” 

“Ma’am, I…” Hotch babbled.

“Please don’t say ‘eggnog’,” Reid whispered, touching his skull as if he had a headache.

“ ‘bout fucking time you got here. Luckily, I had Milt, and Dave and Ernie here helping me keeping an eye on things.”

The sheriff and the two park rangers were slowly ambling towards the counter, nodding hello to Gideon and the general too, shaking hands with Hotch. The park rangers looked alike, not twins, but similar facial structure and hair color. Hotch wondered if they were brothers or cousins.

“You put that twelve-gauge away, Betty, and be nice to the gentlemen,” the sheriff said, extending his hand to Gideon and then to Scott. Jason stared hard at Reid, and Reid avoided the glance, going back to the brochures. Aaron was staring at the counter top, wondering if the shotgun was what Betty had been reaching for in the hidden door under there.

“Milt Harding,” the sheriff murmured.

“Aaron Hotchner, Jason Gideon, General Scott,” Hotch pointed.

“This is Dave and Ernie Matthews. They’re up from Boysen State Park. Someone going to tell me why this skinny kid has a contingent of Moscow dark suits tailing his ass across Wyoming?” Sheriff Harding wondered.

“Moscow?” Gideon asked.

“Korsakova,” Reid replied.

“Bloody hell, “General Scott interjected. “Not her again.” "Are you sure it was Korsakova?" Gideon pressed.

"Yes. I'm sure," Reid replied.

"Were you close enough to confirm her identity?" Gideon asked.

Reid tilted his head at the repeated insistence, and frowned at his mentor. "Yes," the doctor answered crisply.

“How do you know the other unfriendlies were from Moscow?” Hotch asked the sheriff.

“I spent several years in Europe in the military. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where these hoods were from. They were carrying military-issue Sig Sauers stuffed under their over-priced suits, so they were military, but they're private now, and well-paid too. They bought all the expensive vodka in stock at the liquor store on Third and Maple. They spoke with heavy Eastern European accents, and they asked the liquor store clerk if it was always this miserable in 'Vyoming' this time of year,” Harding replied. Hotch smiled in spite of his best efforts. “Like I said, it didn't take a rocket scientist,” the sheriff added.

"No, it didn't," Gideon agreed with a faint smile. 

"So what's their interest in Dr. Reid?”

“Sorry, that’s classified information,” Gideon replied, shooting Reid a glance that screamed for him to keep his mouth shut.

“Classified, huh?" Betty snarked. "Going out on a limb, Milt, I'd bet it has to do with the fact he memorized the entire contents of my guest list and all the open booking options with one read-through of the log books. He's never been to Thermopolis before this morning, but he was able to give directions to someone who called in from Utah. Did a nice job with the brochures too. I can see where talents like this might useful. You going to be okay with this lot of goons?” Betty asked Reid, coming around the counter.

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you again. I really appreciate your help, and the cookies too," Reid blushed vibrantly.

“You take care of yourself, and stay out of trouble,” she chided, giving him a hug and patting his back, jarring his ribs and several internal organs.

“I will,” Reid squeaked.

“And if you’re ever looking for a safe job in a quiet place, you come back and see me anytime,” Betty winked. Reid smiled sheepishly again.


	8. Chapter 8

When the phone in his Cheyenne hotel room rang, Reid tilted his head towards the side table, and considered just letting it ring. It was way past eleven, almost midnight, he was wide awake, and he had a severe headache which four aspirin and four ounces of sloe gin hadn’t put a dent in. Frankly he was in no mood to talk to anyone. 

He wasn't proud of it, but he was drunk again. He knew he shouldn't have turned to liquor for comfort, not so soon after over-indulging at Hotch's party, but this had been the mother of all stressful weeks. He needed to be comfortably numb if he hoped to get any sleep tonight.

Reid let the phone ring, but the occupant of the room next door began to pound on the wall behind his bed, jarring his headboard, his book, his spinal column, and his aching head. Reid sighed. He picked up the phone as he closed the book he had had propped up on his chest. It wasn't like he was reading it, only staring off into space between the lines on the page.

“Hello?” Reid said.

“You wanna talk about it?” Hotch asked. Reid thought he was hearing Aaron’s voice twice. He leaned his head back against the headboard and wall behind him.

“Nope,” Reid replied sullenly.

“I realize Gideon chewed your ass pretty hard for a couple hours, and you’re probably in no mood, but if you’re hungry, we could get a bite to eat, and I promise not to light into you too, okay?” Hotch implored.

Reid realized that he was hearing Hotch’s voice through the wall and through the phone. Hotch was in the room next door, and had been pounding on the wall to make Reid answer the phone.

"It'll help if you talk about it," Hotch offered. Reid barely bit back the urge to tell him to go fuck himself.

“There isn’t anything to talk about. I went over all of this with Gideon. Korsakova caught me in Cincinnati between connecting flights. One of her henchmen put a Sig in my side in the middle of a crowded airport. I was trying to avoid unnecessary violence and bloodshed, so I went along without a fuss. They diverted me to a private plane. They brought me to Wyoming, to a previously- arranged location, and they were making arrangements to have me flown out the next morning.”

“How did they get you past General Scott and his team?”

“Maybe Scott's team thought I was going along voluntarily. I'm not supposed to talk about them," Spencer slurred.

"Reid? Are you drunk?" Hotch asked, holding back a snicker. 

"A little. More than a little," Reid admitted. "Very. Sorry." 

"I understand how you feel," Hotch replied.

“Nope," Reid said. "I don't think you have any idea."

"Why in the world would Gideon choose General Scott to be in charge of your security?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Gideon. But I've been told I am not to notice them, not to mention them, nothing."

"Okay. We won't talk about them," Hotch agreed. "At any rate, I called JJ, and we’ve sent a team to find the cabin in Meeteetse where they were holding you, but so far they’ve come up with nothing.”

"You didn't tell JJ what happened, did you?" Reid whined. 

"Yes," Hotch replied.

"Oh, fuck me, why did you have to tell her?"

"Reid, JJ tracked me down to find out why I wasn't at home, because she's got a case for us the minute we get back from the holidays. Did you want me to lie to her about why I was out here?"

"Yes," Reid sulked. "You know how they talk to each other. She's never going to keep her mouth shut. She'll tell Garcia. Garcia will tell Morgan. Morgan will tell Elle. The next thing you know, everybody is gonna know."

"Reid, I told JJ this was strictly confidential. As far as anyone else knows, you were visiting an aunt in Wyoming and got stranded. Okay? Quit worrying. No one is blaming you for this." 

"Gideon is," Reid pouted.

"He is not," Hotch soothed. "Hopefully the team combing the area for the cabin will find a trail to follow to Korsakova."

“Hotch, I’m sure once Korsakova realized I slipped away, she and her hired guns cleared up any evidence,” Reid said. “It would be fruitless to search for a trail. I doubt you'll even find that cabin. They probably leveled it.”

“What happened out there?” Aaron asked. 

“We talked.”

“About what?” Aaron worried, feeling simply dreadful about the fact that while he was opening presents with Jack, and dodging poisonous glares from Haley, Reid had been in such a dangerous predicament. Hotch felt miserable that he had made Reid cry, and he would have been devastated if that had turned out to be his last exchange with Spencer. Aaron was haunted by the idea of how this situation might have turned out, if Korsakova had successfully executed her plan to spirit Reid out of the country. He would have never seen Reid again, and he would have always wondered what had happened to him. He would have always regretted not running back up the stairs and checking on him. So tonight, Aaron was determined not to leave Reid alone to wallow in lonely misery.

“How nice the weather in Siberia is this time of year,” Reid mused humorlessly. “How useful I could be to her. How rich she could make me. How powerful. The usual enticements in situations like this. Oh, and she promised me a pony.”

"A pony?" Hotch squeaked. He detected the dark sarcasm a moment too late. "Be serious. Tell me what really happened."

"I am telling you what really happened."

“Reid, that bruise on your neck isn’t from any gun muzzle I’ve ever encountered, so unless you want me to believe Betty the Biker/Hotel Clerk gave you that lovebite, I’m going to have to assume it was Korsakova sucking on your neck."

Reid reached up and rubbed the left side of his throat. He thought he had kept the lovebite well concealed. Apparently not.

“I was using delay tactics, distracting her until I could figure out how to escape.”

“How distracting did you have to be?” Hotch gulped.

“No comment,” Reid quipped.

“First base, second base, third base, or home run?” Hotch asked bluntly. Reid was very quiet. Did he understand the reference?

“We weren’t playing baseball,” he answered. “I performed a variety of sexually-satisfying procedures on her. She returned the favor, shy of actual intercourse, as we were without appropriate protection. I then requested a small breather in order to make drinks.”

“You what?” Hotch breathed, feeling suddenly flushed and astonished.

“Shall I describe these procedures in detail for you?” 

“No!” Hotch exclaimed, appalled.

“How interesting. Gideon did ask for greater detail. At first he couldn’t believe I had voluntarily engaged in sexual activity with Korsakova. Or anyone for that matter. Perhaps he enjoyed listening to me describe what she and I did. He always has been quirky that way. Perhaps he was under the impression that because I don’t broadcast my sexual habits that I haven’t got any desires to speak of. Do you share that opinion, or do you merely have a more prurient interest? You of all people should have the best idea about my sexual habits. Or am I mistaken about what happened in Columbus?”

“Reid, focus, please."

"Is that it, Hotch? Did you call me tonight so I would talk dirty to you?"

"Reid, behave yourself," Hotch scolded tenderly. It wasn't an admission or a denial. It was an even, gentle way of calming Reid down, and it worked very well. "Tell me what happened with Korsakova. How did you get away from her and her men?” Aaron asked, his heart pounding nervously. Denials and distractions were rattling around his brain if Reid pressed the issue. The young man had never once mentioned those calls in the months since Columbus. But tonight, Spencer was mad, and he was hurt, and whatever he had dragged back from the liquor store, he had had at least enough of it to loosen his tongue.

“Why don’t you call Gideon and talk to him about this?” Reid pouted.

“Spencer, don't be difficult,” Aaron soothed. Reid was quietly thinking on the other end of the line.

“I made eggnog for Korsakova, and laced it with several of the headache capsules I had in my satchel. I made a double-batch so there was more than enough for the two guards as well. I pretended to drink a glass with Korsakova, and had a slug or two with the guards so that no one would be suspicious.”

“When they were all unconscious, you slipped away?”

“Yes. I hitched rides for two days before stopping in Thermopolis.”

“Jesus, Reid, how many cases have we investigated where hitchhikers were killed? Tortured? Dismembered? Vanished? I can’t believe you took a risk like that!”

“Given the alternative, I thought it was the lesser of two evils,” Reid countered. "I needed to put some distance between myself and that cabin."

"You could have been killed," Hotch chided him.

"It was easy, Hotch. All I had to do was fuck a couple of burly truckers, and they were more than willing to take me anywhere."

Aaron inhaled in horror, and Reid cackled wickedly. "You better be joking," Hotch muttered.

"Relax, Bossman. I was picked up by an elderly couple, retirees from Oregon. They were really nice people. I didn't have to fuck either of them.”

“Thank God,” Hotch whispered. Reid coughed wryly. “What?” Hotch asked.

"Thank you for worrying. I really hate how you do this." 

"How I do what?"

"How you get me to talk when I don't want to talk.”

“You've seen me work suspects before. You know how good I am at getting people to spill their guts to me."

"Don't sell yourself short," Reid whispered. There was that hint of sarcasm again. Hotch smiled. He had sounded pretty arrogant, hadn't he?

"Reid, it goes without saying that you should have called me the minute you escaped,” Hotch scolded without venom.

“I didn’t have my phone,” Reid whined.

“Have you talked to your mom? She must be worried sick about you.”

“Korsakova let me call my mom and tell her what happened."

"You called and told your mother you had been kidnapped by Russian agents?" Aaron gasped.

"No, I told my mom we had an unexpected case in Wyoming, and that I would see her soon.”

“You should have called me instead."

“Hotch, Korsakova dialed the number for me. She's not completely stupid.”

“I know. I know. That's part of the problem. She's not stupid, and she's determined. But don’t worry. We’ll get you to Vegas tomorrow morning, so you can at least have a couple days with your mom,” Hotch soothed. “Gideon is headed right back to DC from Vegas once we touch down. Do you want me to hang around and fly  
back with you?” Aaron offered. "I don't know if leaving you alone is a good idea."

“Hotch, thanks, but I’m not a helpless baby. Besides, Mom is mad at you for making me work on Christmas. If you and Gideon see me to the airport in Vegas, I can take it from there. I won't be alone. I'm sure General Scott and his team will be lurking around somewhere. Fly back with Gideon. You should be at home with Haley.”

“Frankly, home with Haley is the last place I want to be at the moment,” Hotch admitted softly. Reid groaned in sympathy.

“Ohhh. Shit. I’m so sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have called you. I should have called Morgan. He was closer anyway. It would have been a shorter flight for him. But I was worried you’d be angry if I didn’t alert you to what was going on.”

“Reid, I would have been furious with you if you hadn’t called me,” Hotch growled.

“I didn’t mean to cause friction in your marriage. Next time I’m kidnapped by dangerous foreign agents, I’ll be sure to call Morgan when I can’t reach Gideon.”

“Reid….” Aaron muttered, wishing Reid would stop being so sarcastic. “Look, Haley and I, we have got plenty of friction between us all on our own. It goes in cycles, it seems. None of that is your fault.”

“If you were at home with Haley more often, there wouldn’t be as much friction, would there?” Reid chided gently. “You get so little time together as it is, and that can’t be easy on either of you, not with a small child at home. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe you should describe these sexually-satisfying procedures to me,” Aaron laughed, low and deep. “They might come in handy when I get home tomorrow night and find all my clothes on the front lawn.”

“Haley hates your job, doesn’t she?” Reid asked. 

“She does,” Hotch replied.

“I can’t blame her. We take you away too often, keep you busy all hours of the day and night, work you on evenings and weekends and holidays too. You miss birthdays and anniversaries, and first steps, and first words. Yeah, if I were Haley, I’d hate your job too. I’d really really hate that annoying kid who called you at six in the morning to come pick his stupid ass up because he got himself stranded in the middle of nowhere. Genius? I’m so sure. Hopeless idiot, more than like.”

“The burdens of command. Some of us can handle it, some of us can't,” Hotch smiled. 

Reid sat up, put down the phone, and reached over the headboard. He banged rapidly on the wall with both fists for several seconds.

“Ow! Stop that,” Hotch laughed, his voice muffled through the phone receiver on the pillow. Reid calmly picked up the phone again, settling back against the headboard once more.

“You are SUCH a narcissistic prick,” Reid muttered. Hotch smiled to himself. He knew he was getting Reid to relax when profanities started trickling into his speech pattern.

“So, are you hungry?” Hotch asked. “There’s an all-night Chinese place right around the corner. We could walk over and back. They may even let you eat with a fork.”

“Hotch, I am in no condition to walk anywhere."

"How drunk are you?" Hotch asked, mirth returning to his tone.

Reid gave a squirrely laugh. "Very drunk, yet curiously, not drunk enough," he replied.

"I'll walk over, and pick up some food, and come back," Aaron offered. "You should eat something. You hardly touched dinner."

"I was too busy getting my ass reamed by Gideon." 

"He's protective of you."

"No. He's possessive of me. I'm a useful tool. He's put a lot of time and effort into me, and he doesn't want to see his work go to waste, or worse, see someone else reap the benefits of what I know. I'm useful to Gideon. That's why he puts up with me."

"You don't mean that," Hotch scolded gently.

"I haven't figured out why you put up with me, though. A lot like Gideon, I suppose."

"That's not true," Aaron crooned, softening his voice.

"I'm a tool," Reid said.

"Yes, you are a tool, but not in that sense," Hotch chuckled playfully.

"Gideon thinks I got myself kidnapped as a ploy to garner your attention," Reid whispered.

"Why does he think that?" Hotch asked. 

"I'm not sure," Reid denied.

"What is it, Reid? What did he say to you? What are you not telling me?" Hotch asked.

"Nothing we're going to talk about. Not now. Not ever." 

"Why not?" Aaron wondered.

"Because it's late. I'm drunk. I'm liable to open my big mouth, and say things I shouldn't say. You'll never want to speak to me again. You'll fire me. I'll lose my job. I'll jump off a bridge. Or maybe the Hoover Dam. Yeah. That would do it. Hoover Dam. No chance of surviving that."

"Reid, I hate to break up your pity party, but I'm going to go over and get some food, and I'm going to come to your room, and we're going to talk. But we are not going to mention the Hoover Dam again. Are we?"

"I suppose not."

"What can I bring you?" 

"Moo shoo."

"Moo shoo, it is."

"And a pony," Reid teased.

"No, I am not bringing you a pony," Hotch refused.

"Are you hanging up now?" Reid asked softly. He sounded so alone suddenly.

"Yes, but I'll be right back," Aaron said as he climbed out of bed, slipping into his shoes on the way out the door.

Reid hung up the phone. Seconds later, he emerged from his room, tucking the bottle of sloe gin into his satchel. Aaron was surprised, but pleased to see him.

“Did you change your mind about walking over with me?" Hotch said, putting away his cell phone.

Reid shrugged, eyes on the floor. He didn't know what to say. It occurred to him that he should not let himself be alone in a hotel room with Hotch, not after the emotional ups and downs of the last few days, certainly not when he was this drunk and stupid. He was afraid he was going to say too much, or do the wrong thing. He might put his head on Hotch's big shoulder and beg to be held. Or strip off his clothes and beg to be fucked. At least if they were in public, Reid was less likely to make an ass of himself. Being in public, and being expected to act appropriately, was a much more preferable alternative to being alone with Hotch, and risking doing something that might alienate Hotch forever.

Hotch lifted the flap on Reid's satchel and retrieved the bottle of liquor. "Strong stuff?” Aaron asked.

“Not strong enough,” Reid complained.

“Jesus, Reid, this is 22.5 percent alcohol. It’s 45 proof! I'm surprised you're not unconscious.”

“I was craving a sloe screw, but the liquor store was out of Southern Comfort, and did not carry orange juice. What are you doing?” he asked as Hotch took a heavy slug of the sloe gin and grimaced.

"Oh God. That's unspeakable. It tastes like cough syrup. I never took you for someone who would be into sweet fruity drinks," Aaron gasped, giving Reid back his bottle. 

“Liar," Spencer smiled.

"Come on," Hotch said, pulling Reid along by his elbow. "You don' t need any more alcohol. We're going to talk."

"What are we going to talk about?" Reid wondered, following along.

"Not the Hoover Dam. Not Korsakova. Not your mother. Not my wife. So far, so good?"

"Yes," Reid agreed.

"Why don't we discuss how wrong you are in your assertion that I'm a narcissistic prick?" Aaron murmured deeply.

Reid missed the top stair and fumbled. Hotch steadied him. Spencer clutched the stair rail and slowly walked down, one step at a time. Hotch remained at his side.

"Do you need a lift?" Aaron asked. Reid frowned at him.

"No, you brute. You may not carry me downstairs like a sack of potatoes."

"Okay. I won't carry you," Hotch grinned. He leaned closer. Reid balanced between the railing and the solid, strong arm that Hotch was offering.

"Thank you," Reid whispered.

"You're welcome," Hotch whispered back.


End file.
